Las Vegas Marathon Race Report

Las Vegas Rock & Roll Marathon Race Report:

I’ll say it now: this race report will be long. So bring a GU, get a glass of water, find a comfortable chair and read on. And if you can’t read the entire thing, I’ll go ahead and spoil it by putting the results up front:

Las Vegas Marathon
Time: 3:10:25
Average: 7:16 min/mile
14th place woman, 3rd in my age group

Las Vegas. What an interesting place. This was my first trip to Vegas, surprisingly, so I didn’t really know what to expect. The best way I can describe it is as a 24 hour party. I felt like I was back in college on a week long Spring Break. Lots of temptation that didn’t really fit well with me going to bed at 9 pm and trying to rest for a marathon. Have you ever tried to go to bed at 9 pm in Las Vegas? It’s not exactly a quiet city…

I started out last week on a good note. Watching my nutrition, getting some rest and staying focused. My goal was to break 3:13, which was my PR from San Antonio a few weeks ago. Being the overly ambitious person I am, I decided to shoot for 3:12:59. Hey, a PR is a PR :). My biggest quandary was how to approach pacing in this race. I am a big fan (most of the time) of running with a pace group, as I feel it helps me to push myself a little harder. For San Antonio, I ran with the 3:15 pace group, who actually was running faster than a 3:15 pace (hence my 3:13 finish). I couldn’t decide if I should run with the 3:15 pace group for Vegas and trying to pick it up half way through to bank some time for a 3:12 finish, or try to run with the 3:10 pace group as long as I could and pray to God I didn’t BONK. Something about me: in the weeks before a marathon I get anxious, I doubt my abilities and I make stressing a full-time job. It’s not good. I tend to underestimate myself in general, which is a character flaw of mine. I was very unsure as to whether I could hang with a 3:10 pace group. I was afraid I would be biting off way more than I could chew. Anyway, in the end I decided my plan would be to run with the 3:10 pace group, and if it backfired on me, then oh well- there are always other marathons. I was feeling good about this decision, and then I arrived in Vegas…

I get to Vegas on Friday, and I am in vacation mode and ready to check this City out, not sit in the hotel and rest my legs. I lose all focus. Enter big mistake #1: I am an idiot and brought totally and completely improper shoes to be touring a City days before a marathon: high-heeled boots. Dan asked me why I didn’t just wear my running shoes to walk around in and I (shamefully) answered because they are bright blue (Brooks Launch) and do not match my jeans or my outfits so I must wear high heeled boots. Lame, I know. Then I proceed to blow my plan to eat healthy and consume a huge plate of nachos and later indulge at the All You Can Eat Buffet at MGM.

Saturday rolls around and I had signed up to jog the Vegas Santa Claus run. I do not have a car while I am here but Dan tells me it’s only a mile from the hotel so I decide to jog there ONLY it’s at least 2 miles out there and so by the time I get out there, do the race (which I cut short) and come back I’ve already logged way more miles than I wanted to pre-marathon. Then I eat Mexican food (again) for lunch. Then I proceed to walk all over the City again in those #$&% boots trying to find a place to watch the South Carolina/Auburn game which wasn’t worth the walk because it was abysmal. I arrive back to the hotel just after 5 pm Saturday hoping to catch a quick meal at the Italian restaurant in the hotel and go to bed, but didn’t even think that reservations would have been a good idea…the wait is 1.5 hours. I wait it out, eat some food, get back to the hotel room after 8 pm. At this point, I’m grumpy and I’m seriously 100% sure there is no way I am going to have a good race in the morning and resign myself to just being happy with finishing the dang thing.

Fast forward to Sunday morning. Up at 5 for some light stretching, a few prayers and off to the start.

With lower expectations for the Las Vegas Rock 'n' Roll Marathon, I will say that I was pleasantly surprised with the course, and the overall experience was a great one. Now, keep in mind that I am not the greatest fan of Rock 'n' Roll Marathons, and here's why: They're crowded, overpriced and occur in downtown areas with terrible parking.

While Vegas was no different in terms of being overpriced (in my mind) and in downtown Vegas, the race organizers did a wonderful job of picking a course that followed wide roads, which made the crowd appear to be lot less than the 26,000 that ran. In fact, there was hardly any jostling once out of the corrals, and I believe almost every person had room to pass others and find individual paces.

I line up in Corral 2 with the 3:10 pace group (might as well try!) and wait for the race to start. I am 99% sure the National Anthem singer was drunk. The gun goes off, and off we go. While I was the lone woman who ran with the 3:15 pace group in San Antonio, that was not the case in Vegas. I’m astounded to see a core group of women spring past me right off the bat. I’m not made of lightning, but these ladies seem EXTREMELY fast and extremely confident as they start their race. Instead of panicking about their pace, I concentrate on feeling out my pace and tell myself not to go out too strong and stay with the pace group. There are a lot of miles between me and the finish line.

The marathon and half marathon run the first 12ish miles together. It’s an out-and-back up and down the strip, and it’s flat and fabulous. I feel pretty good and am hanging with the 3:10 pace group without too much of a problem. I am not breathing heavy, but I could not carry on a full-blown conversation either. The marathon splits off from the half after mile 12 and I see there are some hills coming up, but nothing too bad (nothing steep, just a few longer inclines). We hit the half-way mark, and while I’m feeling good, I’m still concerned as to whether I will be able to keep this pace up the entire time. There are still 3 other women hanging with the 3:10 pace group. I tell myself these women are my competition and if they are going to hang in there, then so am I!

Then around miles 14-15, I feel a little dizzy. I’m not usually one to get light-headed and I wonder what the deal is – did I not eat enough breakfast? Is it there an elevation difference? Is the incline to blame? Am I bonking? I’m not sure. I drink some more water. Besides the dizziness I feel fantastic and my mile times are steady. By mile 16, I am feeling good again and the miles trickle by.

Miles 16-20 go by, and I am still hanging in with the 3:10 group. Two of the women in the group have pulled ahead, but I do not chase them. I remain steady. It’s hard to recall what I was thinking in these middle miles. The views, when I remembered to look at them, were fantastic. You could see the mountains in the distance. The road was wide and even. I remind myself that I’m more than 1/2 way done.

At Mile 21, there is an aid station. I have rarely experienced the joy I felt when I spied the aid station at mile 21. I was out of gu at that point, and was in need. I took a GU, and I feel good. As good as one can feel at mile 21. With five miles to go I am confident. Strong. Ready to charge.

Mile 23 is always where the marathon starts to play dirty, dirty tricks on me. I’m starting to bottom out. I feel foggy, no longer dizzy, but not very sharp either. I zone out. At this point we were on an out and back section of the course, and I see all these runners going back and just want to be on the other side of the road going back with them. The miles are no loner ticking by, they are dragging by. I am still with the 3:10 pace group, although it’s not much a group anymore. It’s me, another girl, another guy and the pace leader. The pace leader is a few steps ahead. I can’t think clearly. My legs are furious with me. My whole body is ready to stop. I try not to trip. I stay on my toes. The balls of my feet feel achey and tired – I press on and try to think that only 3 miles separate me from the finish line.

The same feelings continue as I try to make it through Mile 24. Mile 24, you were the longest, hardest mile I’ve ever done and my body does not like you. You suck Mile 24. You really do.

Then something happens at Mile 25. Maybe it was some sort of out of body experience, but I get my mojo back. I catch back up with pace leader. At this point it’s just me, him and another guy from Wisconsin. We catch and pass the women who had pulled away earlier. My mind is telling my body to keep putting one foot in front of the other and my body follows reluctantly. There is no style or form. My muscles are past that – all we want is to do is finish strong.

As I round the corner at Mile 25.5, I hear someone cheering from me – it’s a friend of my friend Shawn from Austin. He’s a fellow triathlete who I’ve met several times, but had no idea he was going to be there. It was awesome to see a familiar face and it helped keep me going.

Mile 26!! I feel like I might start barfing all over the last 200 meters, but I don’t even care. I gut it out. I sprint as much as I can to the finish. My stomach clenches and my systems go into overdrive. I screw up my eyes. I grimace and push even harder. It’s not much, but whatever. Nothing matters to me except following the people in front of me to the finish line. I want that finish line. I need that finish line. And within a second I am across that line and I am finished.

I cross the finish line with the pace group leader and he shakes me hand and tells me “You are one strong runner.” It makes my day. It feels dreamlike. I stop my watch and glance down to see a 3:10 staring at me. I register that it’s a new Personal Record but I can’t seem to process it.

I double over and feel exhausted and elated. My legs quiver. I spit and make ugly noises while someone hands me a space blanket. I wrap it around me and wander off. There isn’t really any place to wander. The finish line is in a parking lot and it’s not like there are thousands of other runners to deal with. I stumble in one direction for a few steps and then turn to stumble in another direction. I am totally checked out mentally. I look at my watch again. I smile goofily. I congratulate the other runners who have finished before me. I orbit around the finishline and try to keep moving.

Slowly my brain starts to function again. My smile gets bigger. I look at the watch. Yes. 3:10 is still there. I realize I’ve PR’d. I drink some water, eat some food and within 15 minutes I’m feeling pretty good. I sit down to watch Brett Michael’s rock the house for the post-race concert and sing at the top of my lungs (he was awesome!!!).

After the race, I walk back to the hotel with a big smile on my face. I ran with a group of incredibly talented runners and did not let it shake me. I overcame pre-race anxiety. I ran my best. I worked hard. I had fun.

Thanks to everyone for the well-wishes. They mean the world to me. You guys keep me going when I doubt myself. Thank you.

Viva Las Vegas!